


Golden

by shinycrash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A smudge of angst, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bokuto has an abusive ex, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Mutual Pining, POV Kozume Kenma, Some instances of abusive language, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29375379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinycrash/pseuds/shinycrash
Summary: Kenma is a cautious person by nature, and diving into a relationship, even if it’s fake, doesn’t seem clever. He throws away most of the night thinking instead of sleeping, and comes to the conclusion that all of his worries arise from the assumption that he will end up developing real feelings for Bokuto. So by that logic, if he avoids falling in love he should be able to handle this.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 9
Kudos: 30
Collections: Among Friends Server Valentine's Day Fic Exchange





	Golden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [collieflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/collieflower/gifts).



> I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! ❤️
> 
> Be mindful of the tags, the abusive language is only a few sentences, but if you'd rather skip that section, stop reading after "cannot help but overhear the whining of one of them." and continue after "He sighs." 
> 
> Special thanks to the wonderful [Eskarina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eskarina) for being an amazing beta ❤️

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


In Kenma’s vision of the world, most things are predictable, particularly when it comes to people. He wouldn’t dare to say he can guess with exact precision what someone might do just by looking at them, but he is quite confident in his observation skills, and he rarely is mistaken.

This has proved to be handy in all sorts of situations, especially now that he’s at university.

Kenma had listened as his coursemates chatted about the upcoming exam, how everyone had failed to keep up with the material and would have to cram three months worth of notes into three days. He knew that they would collectively flood the library in the vain hope of concentrating more easily, so he had carefully chosen the most remote desk on the top floor, hoping to get some quiet. 

He is not fond of crowds, but mostly he needs silence.

What he couldn’t predict though, was how loud people would actually be. He is sitting with headphones on, reading the same sentence for the fourth time without understanding, since he can _still_ hear the incessant chattering of students in his ears. Why do they insist on coming there, if they end up not working anyway? And for the love of God, why does _he,_ when he knows he will end up going back home with a pounding headache and so, so much regret?

He hasn’t lost all sanity, however. There’s a reason why he’s not studying in the comfort of his own room, and it’s Kuroo’s fault, as most problems in his life are. Kenma had warned his best friend and roommate of the exam coming up and that he needed silence in order to concentrate; highlighting _silence_ multiple times. 

Had Kuroo refrained from inviting his sweet Akaashi over, that weekend? Absolutely not. So Kenma had no other choice but to flee, not before leaving a salty note on Kuroo’s door, informing him that the ball gag he had purchased did nothing to silence his boyfriend’s moans. Horny idiots.

He huffs at yet another fit of giggles coming from down the corridor, blowing away some of the blonde strands of hair that had escaped from his half ponytail. There’s no use remaining there, he has already wasted too much time. Perhaps a cafe would be a quieter option, with the added benefit of caffeine.

He picks up his bag and moves to leave, when suddenly there are sounds of a commotion coming from the corridor, just around the corner of where he had been sitting. Two male voices are arguing, one strikingly louder, the other more quiet, almost apologetic, but Kenma is not close enough to hear what they’re saying.

The last floor is usually a very quiet spot, he imagines they picked this place specifically to not be interrupted. He grimaces, realising that the corridor is the only way out and he will inescapably have their eyes pinned on him while he interrupts their private talk.

As Kenma approaches the two guys, the words become more distinct and he cannot help but overhear the whining of one of them. 

“You’re lucky I put up with you for so long, you know how unlikeable you are. Always so loud, and _so_ needy”.

Kenma stops behind the corner, a few metres away from the pair. 

_A couple breaking up?_

“I- uh…”, the other guy seems to struggle to form a reply, but the first keeps piling on, continuing with his monologue.

Usually, Kenma would have already left, but something doesn’t feel right about this, so he leans over just a little, hoping not to attract their attention. He wants to get a clearer view of the situation.

They are facing each other and luckily, they both seem far too immersed in their conversation to pay any attention to him. The guy doing most of the talking does not seem that menacing. He is only a few inches taller than Kenma, scrawny and with a bland face, scrunched up by annoyance, as if the only fact that he has to have this conversation pains him.

“I can’t imagine you _ever_ finding someone that will love you as much as I do. You should be thankful that I am willing to forgive you for leaving, and come back to my place already.”

The guy on the receiving end is tall, with broad shoulders and strong thighs, clearly struggling to fit in the pair of light jeans he has on. He’s definitely built like an athlete, Kenma thinks, and yet he seems to shrink at every word uttered by the guy in front of him. He’s visibly shivering, looking down nervously, probably trying to come up with something to say. He briefly raises his head, as to find the courage to reply, and Kenma manages to catch a glimpse of his huge, golden eyes that, paired with his white-grey spiky hair, make him vaguely look like a hurt baby owl.

"Face it, you'll be alone for the rest of your life. No one has the patience to stay with you for more than 5 minutes." That idiot sure knows where to hit, because the big guy is possibly even closer to tears, after that blow. Kenma’s heart aches a bit at the sight.

He sighs. It pains him to get involved in situations that require him to talk a lot, especially with strangers, but right now he is feeling a strong urge to teach that guy a lesson. This is clearly not just a simple break-up, these are signs of an abusive relationship. 

He comes up with a quick plan. Hoping for the situation to not escalate into a fight (it’s been a while since he has had a fight with anyone, and he really can’t be bothered today), Kenma opts for a simple lie and comes out of the corner nonchalantly, as if he had just naturally stumbled upon the couple. 

"Oh! Here you are baby, I was looking for you everywhere!" he looks directly into the eyes of the handsome boy, grabs his hand and squeezes it lightly, hoping that he will get the hint. 

His head tilts in confusion, and Kenma grimaces internally, already regretting his decision to get involved. He resists the urge to bolt and continues, “we have a date tonight, _remember_?”, giving the stranger another, very eloquent look to which he finally reacts, his eyes widening briefly with comprehension. 

"Y-yeah, here I am!"

"Bokuto, who is this?!" The ex is desperately trying to look intimidating. Unsuccessfully, in Kenma’s opinion. 

"I'm his boyfriend, but I can't say I have the pleasure of knowing who you are." Kenma says with a spine-chilling tone, and the guy seems sufficiently taken aback. Kuroo has told him on several occasions that he has a terrifying aura when he is pissed, not that he himself has ever noticed, but it seems to be effective.

Kenma continues with his play, possessively tugging at the stranger’s hand, bringing him closer to himself. “I suggest you disappear from my sight, before I decide I’m feeling jealous today.”

He hopes he is not crossing a line here - perhaps the physical contact is too much - but the big guy doesn’t seem to mind, instead he excitedly puts his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, smiling as wide as he can manage, still a bit shaken. 

“I’m sorry Akihiko, I have to go! It was nice seeing you again I guess, but I’ve moved on, as you can see”, he says, and lets himself be guided towards the exit by Kenma.

As he watches them go, Akihiko has the face of someone that has been slapped, hard. Kenma looks at him, then at the stranger holding his hand, and can’t stop the feeling of triumph growing in his chest. He is very pretty, even with the glassy eyes and the trembling pout that suggest he’s holding back a lot of tears. This must have been hard for him.

  
  


Once they are outside the library, decently far away from anyone that might know them, Kenma tries to speak, but is immediately interrupted. 

“That. Was. Awesome! I have never seen him so shocked!”

As if someone flipped a switch on his back, the stranger’s demeanor completely changes. Still holding onto Kenma’s hand, he looks him in the eyes with the most genuine smile Kenma had ever seen. “Why did you do it? You don’t even know me!” 

Kenma doesn’t know how to answer. He wouldn’t consider himself a white-knight type of guy, ready to help people in need. Not that he is an asshole, he would give everything for the people he loves...but the uncertainty of dealing with strangers makes him uneasy. Yet somehow, that scene made him relive feelings that he could not consciously ignore.

“I...don’t know really. I don’t like people that manipulate others, and figured you probably needed a hand.” 

Vaguely familiar faces resurface in Kenma’s memories, but he pushes them back. He is better now, at dealing with people and with his own feelings, so it was only fair for him to help someone still struggling.

“Well, thank you! When it comes to Akihiko I get very...vulnerable”, he seems to deflate at the mention of his ex. “For a moment I thought I would give in, usually it’s very difficult not to believe what he says...”

“I’m glad I could help. I’m Kenma, by the way.” And at that moment he realizes: they’re still holding hands. They both look down and separate hastily, the stranger visibly flushes, mirroring the heat Kenma feels on his own cheeks.

He is disgustingly good-looking, so much it is hard not to notice it. And Kenma is not really one for hunks and looks over personality, but something about his incredibly expressive eyes is getting to him, making him all flustered.

“Ah! Sorry! I’m an idiot, I still haven’t introduced myself. I’m Bokuto Koutarou, please let me treat you to something, to repay you!” 

Kenma is taken aback by the bluntness. His original plan was to part ways and go to that cafe on his own, he didn’t think Bokuto would want to stick around after being rescued from that asshole. But now he’s offering to pay, and Kenma would never refuse free coffee, not in the state he is now, even if it implies a conversation with someone new. 

“Sure, let’s go then,” he sighs. Just one coffee, and then he’ll go. Maybe a piece of cake.

~

Kenma has to admit, he understands now why Shouyou recommended this place so much. The cream and lavender tones of the decor give the cafe a soothing atmosphere, exactly what he needs when he starts to get frustrated about his assignments. Those soft armchairs look like the perfect spot to write his story boards, and the windows are big and bright, allowing him to look outside in search of inspiration.

They order and sit in one of the spots closest to the windows. Kenma feels the tension threatening to close his throat, starting a conversation with someone he didn’t know until an hour ago is just out of his comfort zone. The fact that Bokuto is so damn pretty he renders every one of Kenma’s thoughts intelligible doesn’t help either. 

Initially, he feels the urge to bolt at least twice, but Bokuto surprises him by effortlessly leading the conversation. He is a natural extrovert, engaging but not intolerably intense, somehow they talk for more than an hour without Kenma even noticing the passage of time. He rarely ever talks about himself and his ambitions, he doesn’t like the idea of people knowing his plans (in this way they can't be disappointed) and he doesn’t enjoy the attention either, but this strange guy he just met makes it so easy that Kenma is genuinely impressed. 

He finds himself sharing his desire to develop games that can challenge players as much as he likes to be challenged, and Bokuto listens avidly to every word he says. Every emotion is clearly displayed on his face, Kenma doesn’t have to guesswork or play mind games. It’s a nice feeling.

Bokuto shares just as much, about his sport science degree, his volleyball team, and suddenly he ventures into a recount of the last time he got tangled in the net because he lost balance after a block. 

“I don’t even know how my foot got up there?! I was in the air and one second later I was dangling like a bat!” He gesticulates a lot while he talks, moving excitedly in his seat whenever he adds a particularly interesting detail. His description is so vivid that Kenma, despite trying hard, can’t stop himself from laughing out loud, much to Bokuto’s pleasure. He resumes his story and Kenma’s eyes stop focusing on his face for a moment, wandering on his body. It really is a crime how tight those clothes fit him. 

Bokuto is still talking and Kenma can’t believe he got so easily distracted, when he is usually the one keeping a cool head in all sorts of situations. The embarrassment threatens to creep on his cheeks, he is not able to think straight for 5 whole minutes, no pun intended. 

The air feels hotter than it should be, the sleeves of his hoodie are already rolled up, but he might just need to take it off completely. He breathes out quietly, and he tries to focus back on their conversation; the subject had changed and he somehow had missed it.

“I wonder what he’s gonna say when he realizes I’m actually single and not dating you”, Kenma notices Bokuto’s mood plummeting for a second. “Argh, I wish he was in another course, at least I wouldn’t have to see his face every week.”

“How would he find out we’re not actually dating?” 

“He’s just...a very persistent guy. This probably isn’t the last that I see of him, and I’m sure that he’ll realize, once he notices we never hang out.” Bokuto takes a slow sip from his drink and looks up at him with an expression that promises nothing good.

“Unless…” 

Oh, no. Kenma has the feeling he knows _exactly_ where that sentence is going to lead.

“Unless what?”

“Unless you agree to be my actual fake boyfriend?! I could pay you! Uhm, I could pay for your coffees, actually. I’m not that rich...and treat you to some nice food sometimes? I’m a good cook! What do you say?” Bokuto talks fast, and excitedly, but Kenma wouldn’t be able to claim he didn’t understand what he said, because his face instantly reacts by frowning, way before his brain has caught up with the meaning of those words. 

“Uh-” Kenma stutters. His first instinct is to say no, bid farewell to Bokuto and disappear forever. He has done his good deed for the day, the smart choice would be to go back to studying and forget about all of this. Yet, he can’t find the will to do it. This guy has the most adorable smile on the face of the earth, and he looks so excited at the possibility of having found a way to deal with his manipulative ex, Kenma doesn’t know how to decline.

“Why would you choose me, anyway?” He surprises himself by actually considering the offer.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve realized but you look kind of intimidating?” Bokuto says, while gesturing towards Kenma’s attire. “Don’t get me wrong, I like you! I mean-” he raises his hands, eyes wide in panic, “I think you’re a nice person, standing up to help someone you didn’t know. But the murder-y eyes...you looked at Akihiko like you were ready to pounce on him”.

Kenma doesn’t know what to reply to that, so he looks at him in silence, while Bokuto continues.

“I just think that people would be more afraid of you than they could ever be of me!” He looks at Kenma, an awkward laugh escapes him. “And, you’re hot! So it’d be a smack to Akihiko’s face that I was able to find someone nice, smart, _and_ good-looking!” And at that, Kenma has to try very hard not to spit coffee in his face. He doesn’t know if he’s more flustered by the compliments, or by the thought of actually pretending to date him. 

He stops to consider. This whole ordeal will likely be annoying; the hassle of having to flaunt a relationship and possibly argue with people, having to explain the arrangement to friends and- oh my god, the teasing. Kuroo will never give him peace, just like the time Kenma crushed on Kuroo’s coursemate Yaku Morisuke, and he was pestered for weeks.

Kuroo knows him well, too well. He will instantly realize that Kenma finds his fake boyfriend hot, and Kenma will have to kill his best friend before he gets the chance to open his big mouth and spill everything to Bokuto. That meddling cat.

Still, there’s a possibility this might be fun. He doesn’t want to put in the effort to find a real relationship, and looks aside, Bokuto genuinely seems interesting to talk to, enough to intrigue Kenma.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“You will?!” Bokuto straightens up in his chair, almost incredulous, “then give me your number! You can text me when you’ve made a decision and we can talk about it. If you say no, we can still be friends!” and with that, he points two finger guns at Kenma. 

He hasn’t even agreed yet and he’s already regretting this.

~

With his plans of studying completely ruined and a head full of not so innocent thoughts, Kenma heads home, trying to find a good enough reason to say no to Bokuto’s plan. He finds Kuroo and Akaashi preparing dinner in the kitchen, acting like the disgustingly-in-love couple they are, exchanging kisses while chopping vegetables and eloquent glances over the steam of the pots. As soon as Kenma enters their field of vision, red spreads on Akaashi’s cheeks and he steps away from Kuroo nonchalantly; he, at least, is a little bit ashamed about earlier. 

Kenma is secretly glad, looking at them would cloud his judgement on the matter even further. 

It’s only after they’ve had dinner together that Kuroo asks him what is wrong, since he is being awfully quiet (more so than usual) and he hasn’t touched any of his consoles since he got back from the library, which is usually how he blows off steam. They’re sitting alone on the couch, a show that no one is paying attention to plays on the tv, and Kenma feels his friend’s insistent gaze on him. 

There’s no real harm in asking for a second opinion, so he briefly explains the situation, omitting the very important detail that he finds Bokuto attractive.

Kuroo is quite objective in his reply, as always. 

“I don’t know Kenma, it doesn’t sound like a terrible idea to me. You have nothing to lose and quite a few things to gain.” 

“I’m not that desperate for money, I can afford coffee and food”, he argues, trying to cling to any reason not to put himself in this situation.

“Yes, but I lost count of how many times you skipped meals because you couldn’t bother cooking or getting out of your chair, so this will be a nice way to make sure you’re well fed. And who knows, you could end up making a new friend, which you definitely need!”

Kenma had never been one to make friends easily, and after two years in university, the only people he had managed to befriend were Hinata and Lev, two bright and extroverted first years that had pretty much adopted him. Despite seeming like a distant person on the outside, Kenma tends to be quite drawn to warm, energetic people. Not consciously perhaps, but there is something about seeing passion in someone’s eyes that makes him naturally gravitate towards them. Based on the few hours he has known him for, Bokuto seems exactly that type of guy. 

The brighter the person however, the stronger is the pull he feels. Kenma isn’t sure he will be able to handle that.

He is a cautious person by nature, and diving into a relationship, even if it’s fake, doesn’t seem clever. He throws away most of the night thinking instead of sleeping, and comes to the conclusion that all of his worries arise from the assumption that he will end up developing real feelings for Bokuto. So by that logic, if he avoids falling in love he should be able to handle this. 

He decides to trust Kuroo and his own instinct, and sends Bokuto a text that same night. 

**To:** Bokuto Koutarou

**3:06 am:** I accept, but I have some conditions. Let's meet tomorrow to discuss.

Unfortunately for future Kenma, no one told present Kenma that it’s a very stupid move trusting a sleep-deprived brain to correctly predict what’s going to happen, _especially_ when feelings are involved. 

  
  
  


The next day, Kenma wakes up to a series of excited messages from the source of his insomnia. 

**From:** Bokuto Koutarou

**7:10 am:** YES! Thanks Kenma! 😻

**7:11 am:** Sure, let’s meet at the cafe where we talked yesterday

**7:11 am:** At 2pm!

_Great. Why am I feeling so excited about this, all of a sudden?_

  
  


~

  
  


When Kenma arrives, Bokuto is already waiting in front of the coffee entrance, rocking on his feet. He’s wearing a grey hoodie with a jean jacket on top, and an excited grin on his face. The cafe is not very busy, so they quickly order and sit on one of the couches.

“So...terms! How do you want to do this? Should we kiss? Hold hands? Tell me everything!”

“No! No kissing”, Kenma recoils. He can probably handle close proximity and hand-holding, but he doesn’t trust himself kissing Bokuto, given the nature of this arrangement.

He has the impression that Bokuto is a bit taken aback by his reply, but is trying not to show it. “Sure! That’s fine with me. I like kissing, but I understand we’re not really dating so it’s okay”.

“I’m okay with holding your hand and walking to class with you. We can hug, I guess?” 

Kenma feels like he’s not conceding much, but Bokuto seems to appreciate it, as he rewards him with a happy smile. “Yeah? I’d like that!”

They talk about their classes, when to meet and where to go, and Bokuto’s palpable excitement is so infectious that Kenma feels it too. He buries his face more into the big scarf he’s wearing and sighs, already regretting his choices: this guy will be trouble for him, he’s certain of that. 

“...I want coffee every day. Cinnamon and cream.” 

  
  


~

  
  


They text regularly over the next few days, getting to know each other and finalizing the details of their arrangement. Bokuto takes on the habit of sending him daily updates on what he does, what he eats, and Kenma would be lying if he said he doesn’t feel butterflies in his stomach everytime he hears the familiar vibration of his phone. When did he become so soft? 

_Probably somewhere in between the first good-morning message and the photo of the cat Bokuto befriended on his way to campus?_

Kenma doesn’t appreciate the answer his brain provides.

  
  


Despite how much they talked about this, Bokuto seems almost shy the first time he asks Kenma if he’s happy to take his hand and walk towards campus. As Kenma nods in approval and extends his arm, Bokuto’s demeanor changes again; the physical touch, or perhaps the reassurance, worked well enough to give him confidence. A chilly breeze accompanies their walk, making the autumn leaves flutter airily around them.

“I can’t wait to introduce you to my friends, and to meet yours, oh-! We should probably come up with a story for how we got together.”

“We can say that you were sitting at the cafe and I thought you looked cute, so I approached you, no need to complicate our lives.”

“Would they believe you? That _you_ approached someone first?” Bokuto chuckles.

Kenma hums, “they will, once they meet you.”

Bokuto goes quiet for a moment. His cheeks are bright red, probably due to the cold, and Kenma wonders why he didn’t bring a scarf. Nonetheless, he is at a loss for how endearing he finds all the little things Bokuto does. His hand is incredibly warm, too warm for a November afternoon, and his smile is even warmer, and Kenma doesn’t care to think about much else. He observes him as he starts to talk about his next match, how he draws his lower lip between his teeth, barely containing the excit-

  
_Ugh, I’m such an idiot. How did I not see this coming?_

But the truth is, as much as he would like to pretend otherwise, he did see it coming. The same day he met Bokuto, as a matter of fact. And again in the subsequent days, and after every single text he received. Kenma saw the signs, all of them, he just chose to willingly ignore them in order to keep the boy in his life. 

There’s not much that can be done now, but to contemplate in shock the artful way in which he set himself up for heartbreak. 

As Bokuto had predicted, they run into his ex quite often in the next few days. He still remembers Akihiko’s schedule, and he admits, with a defeated expression, that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to confront him on his own just yet. 

“Would it be too much to ask you to be around whenever I’m not in class?” Bokuto asks with a small voice, while they’re crossing the park on the way to campus. “I know I’m a burden, I just...don’t think I can do it.”

That’s the first time that Kenma punches him. On the arm. A whole two weeks after knowing each other. “You’re not a burden. I agreed to help, didn’t I? So I’ll be there.” And he means it, he’s glad to help. Bokuto doesn’t deserve to feel worried and stressed every time there’s a possibility the asshole might sneak up on him. 

“Ow, Kenma! That hurt!” He’s massaging his arm, but he doesn’t look upset, or even hurt for all that matters. He looks at Kenma with a glint in his eyes, betraying some other feeling that he can’t quite decipher. “But thank you, I think I needed that.”

Kenma looks at him silently. He always has the impression that there’s a lot going on in Bokuto’s head, even when he doesn’t speak much. Perhaps he still finds it hard to consider his own feelings worthy of value, after seeing them dismissed for so long. Kenma makes a quiet promise to himself to never make him feel that way when they are together, squeezing Bokuto’s hand ever so tightly by instinct, as if to make that promise more real. Bokuto looks down at their joined hands and just- _beams_ at him, and suddenly the flickering in Kenma’s stomach becomes impossible to ignore.

  
  


~

  
  


Without even noticing, their relationship becomes more and more intimate in an effortless way. From an outside perspective, they’re incompatible individuals. Bokuto is bright and cheery; the offensively colorful shirts he wears underneath the hoodie and his gold-painted nails only reflect his chirpy demeanor. On the other hand, Kenma looks like the personification of a murder of crows. The blonde dyed hair and the red dagger finely tattooed on his right forearm are the only touches of colour in his dark appearance.

But these differences are merely superficial. If on the outside they are polar opposites, deep, to the core, they are alike.

They take the habit of having interminable talks late at night, and it doesn’t take long to realize that they share the same fears, the same insecurities, the same desire to give their all for the people they care about. They lay bare their souls, become vulnerable in each other’s company; it’s almost scary to see that what one of them feels is echoed by the other. With nuances, sure, but it’s undeniable that being together makes them feel _seen_. Stripped of everything else, their eyes shine of the same golden light.

They get into a routine, easily fitting into each other’s lives. In the morning, Bokuto swings by the apartment to pick up Kenma. Kuroo seems to adore him and it is definitely reciprocated; they share a passion for cheesy puns too, much to Kenma and Akaashi’s dismay, who have now taken on the habit of ignoring those two when they interact in their proximity. 

Bokuto often brings breakfast, mindful of Kuroo’s comments about Kenma skipping it because he can’t be bothered to wake up early enough. Eating together in the kitchen gives a nice start to Kenma’s day. He’s usually very cranky in the morning (completely his fault, since he prefers playing games over sleeping), and the prospect of classes is always daunting, but Bokuto’s presence is somehow soothing for his nerves. Kenma never would have said that a voice so enthusiastic would have become his favourite thing to listen to at 8AM, and yet here he was.

Once they’re out of the apartment, Bokuto unknowingly attempts to end Kenma’s life daily, by pressing their bodies together into a warm hug, the kind that is not bone-crushing, but somehow makes you feel out of breath. Every morning he does that, and every morning Kenma is more certain that he will die due to low oxygenation; his body seems always too preoccupied with combusting to remember to breathe.

He is not even sure why Bokuto does that; it’s just them, there’s no one around to see what they’re doing. It’s nice to entertain the possibility that Bokuto might actually like him. But Kenma is not naive, the best guess he has is that Bokuto, being the affectionate and caring person he is, likes to show his gratitude in that way.

Nonetheless, he can’t help but hope that these hugs are somehow a sign that Bokuto, too, likes to hold him close against his chest, that his heart flutters as much as Kenma’s.

He’s upset with himself, really, when he finally admits he likes Bokuto. 

Kenma is painfully aware that there is nothing real in the arrangement they have, but he can’t stop himself from finding pleasure in these little moments, when they are close because they want to, not because they need to pretend. Perhaps things would have been different, if only they had met under different circumstances. Sometimes he loses himself imagining what would have happened if he and Bokuto had simply met on campus, and decided to date. Would they still be together? Would they spend their evenings kissing, happy, in love, with their limbs tangled between the bedsheets? But then Kenma remembers that he’s not really that interesting to begin with, and how unlikely it would be for someone like Bokuto to spontaneously take interest in someone like him. 

Suddenly, what they have feels like it’s enough. 

So Kenma settles for this. Fake dates at the cafe, holding the hands he wishes he could feel on his bare chest, only staring at lips he aches to kiss.

  
  


~

  
  


The weeks pass, turning into months, and Kenma has accepted his quiet suffering. His crush on Bokuto doesn’t seem to go away. Rather, the more time they spend together, the more Kenma feels himself going crazy for him. He _could_ stop seeing him so much. It would make his life easier, but. They have been carrying on this charade for so long that all of their friends, besides Kuroo and by extension Akaashi, think that their relationship is real; it’d be weird if they stopped spending time together outside campus, all of a sudden. And most importantly, Kenma doesn’t want to. He is a bit of a masochist, after all.

One night, in an attempt to make his crush more manageable, he tries to make a list of Bokuto’s defects. The painful realization that followed was that all the things he could think of...he loved. 

One: Bokuto is fundamentally a good person, too good for his own sake perhaps. He likes to take care of people, especially of the people he loves. Kenma once heard him talk on the phone with one of his sisters, she was thanking him for being so kind to cook for her whole family while she was sick. 

Kenma also remembers him saying that he bought some tickets to a volleyball match his teammate Konoha wanted to go see, but could not afford. Bokuto pretended to have won it so that Konoha wouldn’t feel bad for accompanying him for free. 

He is always happy to help his coursemates with assignments too, and Kenma notices how flustered he gets when someone compliments him, especially if it’s about his brain. 

This prompted the second discovery about Bokuto: he likes to be praised. A lot.

Kenma has to fight with his brain _so hard_ not to focus on the implications of this piece of information. On most nights, he tries his best not to imagine Bokuto naked and willing in his bed, melting at every word of praise Kenma gives him. He tries, sure, but in vain. 

The morning after, he struggles more than usual to keep eye contact with him. 

Three: Bokuto is a huge romantic. He would probably get flustered and deny it if asked, but he sniffles when he sees birds snuggling lovingly on a tree branch, and adores cheesy romantic comedies. Since he often comes by to cook for him, Kenma always lets him choose a movie. Every now and then, Bokuto insists that he couldn’t find anything better, and ends up choosing one of those. By the end of the film his big round eyes are all watery and his lips form a pout that is so disgustingly adorable that Kenma doesn’t know what to do with himself.

The only viable solution is to flee the room with an excuse, holding tight to his chest. Most of the time he manages to calm down, despite Kuroo snickering and gloating over his awkwardness.

Four: Bokuto’s seemingly confident demeanor is in stark contrast with how insecure he feels about himself. Kenma studies him a lot during their ‘coffee dates’, as Bokuto calls their afternoons spent on the couch of their favourite cafe. He is very intelligent, determined, and puts his absolute maximum into everything he does; and yet, it’s disarming how an insensitive comment or a particularly negative opinion are enough to make him second-guess himself. 

When a rival’s comment during a volleyball match left him in such a low mood that he was unable to pick himself up on his own, Kenma grabbed his chin and forced him to stare him dead in the eyes.

“You’re good, Bokuto. Trust your instincts.” His eyes were hiding something again, but Kenma didn’t have the time to investigate further. Bokuto reached for the hand that Kenma used to hold his face up, and gently placed a kiss on his palm, then another, leaving him breathless.

“I’m not sure if I can always trust my instincts Kenma, but I think I trust you.”

The intimacy of that single moment stuck with Kenma without letting him go, for days. He tried not to dwell too much on the meaning behind it, but his damn brain wouldn’t let go of the possibility of Bokuto wanting to kiss him, even if just his hands.

  
  


During that night, Kenma discovers something about himself too: he is surprisingly weak when it comes to Bokuto. In the right circumstances, he would easily agree to anything in order to make him happy. And that’s not good. 

Bokuto is a hurricane, and like hurricanes do, he entered Kenma's life and wreaked havoc, in the nicest way possible. They end up spending most of their free time together, regardless of their arrangement. They play games (Bokuto is a sore loser), go out for walks immersed in nature (that’s how he gets revenge on Kenma), they enjoy each other’s company. Bokuto shows off his cooking skills by preparing spectacular meals for both of them, Kenma playfully teases him but always leaves the plate clean. Whatever activity they do during the day, on most evenings they end up bundled by blankets on the couch watching a movie, Bokuto impeccably falling asleep after the first thirty minutes. 

And as Kenma gazes at him, his beautiful lineaments lit only by the glow of the tv, the realization hits him all of a sudden. What they are doing is awfully close to an actual relationship, and he feels it. This is no simple crush, Kenma is _in love_ with him. 

Admitting it to himself only causes him more pain, because Bokuto wears his heart on his sleeve and he would have given Kenma a sign, _anything_ , if there was a chance he felt the same way. 

~

When spring finally arrives, they abandon their usual coffee dates in favour of spending their afternoons at the park. Bokuto loves exercising under the sun, and Kenma enjoys studying in the shade of the trees, the surroundings offer him the inspiration he needs for writing his characters. He wears his headphones most of the time, especially if there’s screaming kids in his proximity, but Bokuto’s presence makes him feel less isolated. It’s easy for Kenma to slip into his own little bubble, but when he feels connected to the rest of the world, the stories he brings to life feel more authentic, and he definitely needs to thank Bokuto for that.

Today, like any other day, Bokuto sits outside the lecture theatre, waiting for Kenma to come out. When he sees him, he waves lightly in his direction, happily jumping on his feet. 

The way Kenma’s hands naturally search for his is disarming. It took a mere five months for their lives to intertwine so beautifully, for Bokuto to become an indispensable part of his life. 

It would be a lie to say that Kenma stopped worrying completely about what would happen once Bokuto decides there’s no more need to pretend they are dating. On most days, he doesn’t think about it, but the thought of Bokuto just leaving to go look for a _real_ relationship, someone he doesn’t pretend to love...it’s persistent, and it hurts.

  
  


“Ugh, the professor told me off today because he thinks I should spend less time styling my hair and more on my books!”

“Deserved, you could just leave it natural you know.” Kenma keeps the thought that Bokuto is even more stunning with his hair down to himself; the proof lies in the way his heart almost stopped that one time he got to Kenma’s place immediately after showering. 

“But he shouldn’t judge me for how I look, I’m clever _and_ stunning! Besides, I like it this way,” he pouts. “Maybe I could ask Kuroo for tips? He says he wakes up with his hair sticking up like that!”

Kenma makes a pained sound of disapproval. “Please no, never take style advice from Kuroo.”

As they keep walking towards the cafeteria, Kenma spots Akihiko from a distance. In the past months he had glared at them and kept walking, leaving Bokuto satisfied from not being harassed. 

Today he has a different look in his eyes, Kenma doesn’t like it, not one bit.

He stops just in front of them, a slimy grin on his face. “I was just thinking about you two today and you know what? You can have him, for now. I know you’ll get bored of him eventually, so I’m just going to wait. I could easily find someone else, but he is a nice fuck after all.”

Kenma doesn’t dare look to his right, but he feels Bokuto’s hand tremble against his own, and a rage he didn’t know he was capable of possess him. 

He drags Bokuto by the hand, pushes him to the wall and kisses him on the lips, standing on his toes to close the height gap. He feels him jump in surprise, but quickly relax into the kiss, parting his lips in search for more contact. Kenma concedes, biting Bokuto’s lower lip playfully, enjoying the tiny gasp of surprise he makes. He grabs his hair, not too forcefully, and slightly tilts his head, deepening the kiss; he can feel Bokuto melt under his touch, it’s intoxicating. One of his legs slips between Kenma’s, and he chuckles into the kiss. They’re in a public place but they are hardly bothered by that; they’re putting up a good show for Akihiko, after all. 

Kenma’s heart is pounding in his chest when he breaks the kiss reluctantly, the hunger not nearly satisfied, and turns towards Akihiko with a smirk. “Make yourself comfortable then. I have no intention of letting him go anytime soon.”

“Fuck you. Don’t come crying at my door when he leaves you, Bokuto-” 

Kenma cannot stand to hear another word, so he drags him away, distress clear on his face. People stare at them as they go, but he couldn’t care less; they need to get away from there. 

At the first empty bench he finds at the park he sits, urging Bokuto to join him. He doesn’t look upset, but rather dazed.

Kenma’s words are tentative, as to not disturb the apparent quiet surface of his feelings.

“Are you okay?”

Bokuto nods, staring off into space. His lips are slightly parted, he licks at them absentmindedly, finally looking at Kenma. “...I thought you said no kissing.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me but I really wanted to piss him off.” While that was true, Kenma did not mention how he had spent the last few months hoping for Bokuto to kiss him. “Are you upset?”

“No! No, that’s fine, really. I think you definitely pissed him off!” Bokuto’s cheeks are now a darker shade of pink, but Kenma finds him even more beautiful. “I...think I’m finally getting better, you know? I really am! Don’t make that face at me!”

Kenma scoffs, but his heart might just explode from knowing that Bokuto is finally leaving his past behind. “I’m really proud of you,” he says, before being able to stop himself.

He sees Bokuto’s eyes filling up with tears before he is enveloped in a hug. “I’m proud too,” he says, and Kenma has to appeal to all his willpower not to kiss him again. A few months ago, hearing Akihiko's words would have crushed him, but Bokuto is strong now, and proud, and that is all that matters.

“Would you like to come to my place tonight? I can cook something for you, as a thank you for everything that you’ve done for me!” he says with hands still lingering on Kenma’s shoulders.

Kenma hesitates, for the briefest moment. Bokuto has been to his place so many times he has lost count, but this would be the first time Kenma visits him. Objectively, there is no reason to think that the night would go any differently, but Bokuto’s expression just now...Kenma can’t shake the feeling that this will be more like a real date than what they did in the past. 

Ah. There it is again, it’s his mind playing tricks on him, giving him the hope that his feelings might be reciprocated. Would it be wise to trust it? Probably not, the possibilities of getting hurt are too high. “Will you make me your curry if I come?” 

“I’ll make you whatever you want!” Bokuto is radiant. Kenma wants nothing more than to see him like this forever. 

He decides it’s worth taking the risk. He doesn’t care if it hurts, he’ll deal with it. “Let’s go then.” 

~

The journey is a bit longer than Kenma expected. They walk up to the station just in time to catch the train, getting off after a couple of stops. They arrive in a nice residential area of the city, not exactly something a student would choose. Once they get to his apartment, Bokuto is quick to show Kenma around, seemingly excited to have him. “I have the house all to myself, so make yourself at home!”, Kenma can’t stop the corners of his mouth from turning up.

The open space is bright and cozy, but very organised, to Kenma’s surprise. The shelves have plenty of books on sport and cooking, a few mangas, and some framed pictures. He recognises Bokuto at various stages of his life, in most of them accompanied by two girls with a familiar-looking hair colour. One of them seems to match Bokuto’s liveliness, the other his gentle demeanor. Kenma wonders if he will ever have the chance to meet them. 

“When I left Akihiko the semester had already started, and most students had already found a place, so I had to move in here alone. It’s not too bad, cause I get to decorate how I want and I can blast the music in the kitchen while I cook, but I get lonely sometimes.” Bokuto gives him a half smile while he starts to set up the ingredients in the kitchen.

“Is that why you spend so much time at our place?” Kenma sees him frown and slightly blush at the question. 

  
“No! Maybe.” He looks almost offended, but Kenma snorts. It's endearing, and he gets a kick out of teasing him.

“Even if I do, I’ve never seen you complain about having me around,” Bokuto says with a glint in his eyes.

Kenma is stunned. Is Bokuto...flirting with him? A flush creeps up his face as he tries not to slip up and say what is actually on his mind, but before that, Bokuto speaks again. "Go take a shower and put on some warm comfy clothes, you're having a sleepover!"

"Am I?" Kenma says, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

“Yes! I’m going to treat you tonight, you’ll see!” Bokuto’s tone is different, both in a scary and exciting way. 

  
  
  


The warm shower helps Kenma relieve some of the tension he hadn’t noticed he was holding; he exhales, while drying off with the towel. There is something odd in Bokuto’s demeanor tonight, something on his mind that Kenma hasn’t quite managed to categorize. He might still be upset about Akihiko’s words, but he doesn’t look particularly distressed, or sad, and he seemed honest when he said he’s getting over it. Perhaps it has to do with the kiss then, and for a brief moment, Kenma entertains the thought that Bokuto might have actually enjoyed it. 

He allows himself to briefly smile. There’s a small chance that the night might take an unexpected turn, he just needs to test the waters and see where Bokuto stands. It might be risky, but Kenma thinks it’s worth a try. 

He puts on the clean clothes Bokuto had prepared for him: a large light blue sweater and some pajama pants. They’re incredibly large on him, but comfortable. 

When he comes out of the bathroom, Bokuto has at least three different pans on the stove, and a delicious smell of curry is filling the air. He always looks like he’s having fun when he cooks, Kenma wouldn’t mind staring at him all evening. Bokuto is tasting one of the sauces with a spoon, slowly dancing while singing to himself. Kenma has never seen him so focused yet so relaxed at the same time; somehow he looks even cuter than usual. 

“Oh! Are you done?”

Right at that moment, Bokuto looks up from the stove and notices Kenma’s presence. For a second his eyes widen as he chokes, sputtering curry sauce on himself. 

“What are you doing?!” Kenma scoffs at him, getting closer to him. He is bright red now, adorable.

“Sorry, it’s just- you scared me!” Bokuto chuckles awkwardly while he runs to clean himself.

As much as he’s good at reading people, Kenma can’t tell if he’s saying the truth right now. Bokuto sends his brain into overdrive; nothing is as it seems with him. Or is it? Kenma is not sure anymore. He tricked himself too many times, thinking, _hoping_ that the emotions he saw in Bokuto’s eyes were similar to his own. 

Still fresh in his memory is a conversation they had at 1AM on the floor of Kenma’s apartment, when they were supposed to study together. Bokuto had mentioned how he inevitably falls in love with people that are not as committed as he is, that somehow he is always the one putting in more love than he receives. Kenma’s heart ached for him. He imagined someone like Kuroo would have been a great match for Bokuto. He deserves someone with that kind of energy, determined, unafraid to show their own feelings. 

Kenma tells himself that’s why he hasn’t dared to make a move up until now, but more than that, he was afraid of being rejected and throwing away what they have built so far. 

Bokuto returns and Kenma snaps back to reality, allowing himself to hope that something will change tonight.

~

Despite having tried Bokuto’s food many times, Kenma is still amazed by how delicious it is. Bokuto is eating quietly, which is quite unusual. He knows that something’s bothering him, but Kenma doesn’t want to pry. In his experience, Bokuto has always shared his problems in the past; when he doesn’t, it’s because he hasn’t had the time to process what the actual issue is. In this case, Kenma hopes his thoughts are troubling his mind in more _exciting_ ways.

“Hey Kenma.”

He is caught off-guard, but hums in acknowledgement. He hopes Bokuto didn’t notice the way he was staring at him. 

“Will you let me braid your hair?” 

Kenma just gazes at him, in complete confusion. Where did that come from?

“I used to do it for my sisters a lot and I think they’d look very pretty on you,” he continues, while moving a slightly damp strand out of Kenma’s face. Bokuto’s expression is resolute, determined, it sends shivers down his spine.

As he quietly agrees to Bokuto’s proposal, Kenma notices how the atmosphere between them shifted. He’s not exactly sure when it happened, but he can feel the anticipation tingling on his skin as he watches him move towards the couch. Kenma quietly follows him, hoping, _praying,_ that he’s reading the signs correctly. 

Bokuto sits on the couch, spreading his legs wide, and gestures for Kenma to position himself in between them, smiling now with his usual excitement. The moment Kenma sits he is surrounded by Bokuto’s warmth. It’s soothing, he could fall asleep leaning on his chest, if his heart was not pounding so much. 

He feels Bokuto’s fingers lightly touch his neck and then slowly move up towards his head, where they sink into his hair, drawing small circles against his scalp. Kenma can’t stop a small moan from escaping his lips, and hears Bokuto quietly chuckle behind him. “Relaxing, isn’t it?”

There is no way he isn’t doing this on purpose, Kenma realizes. Surely, Bokuto must know how deeply bothered Kenma feels right now, how far from relaxed his body is, almost shaking with months of bottled-up desire. When he feels him carefully divide the hair strands to start working on the braids, he tries to concentrate on his technique, in a desperate attempt to regain control over himself. Kenma _could_ let go, he could easily turn around and make Bokuto squirm under his touch; he’d _love_ to, but first he needs to be sure, he can’t risk being wrong about his intentions. So he waits.

Bokuto really seems to know what he’s doing; his fingers work carefully, perhaps a bit unsteadily, but it’s mesmerising to watch.

“You know,” Bokuto says, almost whispering while he brushes the other side of Kenma’s hair, “this relationship that we have...I like it. I know it’s not real, but-” he pauses for a moment, and Kenma can’t help but hold his breath, “I like being around you, Kenma.” 

He is positive his face is now in flames, but still doesn’t dare to look Bokuto in the eyes. 

As he talks, Bokuto’s fingers seem to get steadier, almost as if laying his thoughts out in the open is calming his nerves. “I don’t have to weigh every word I say...it’s a good feeling. You make me feel safe.” And with that, Bokuto cages him with his arms and brings him close to his chest. It’s a brief hug, but the intensity shakes Kenma to the core. 

“I have been told many times that I’m exhausting, and eventually people get tired of me.” Kenma opens his mouth to speak, but Bokuto stops him. “Wait, let me finish! I _used_ to believe them, but then I met you. You’re the least patient guy I’ve ever met, and still you never seem irritated by me.”

Kenma shakes his head, “because you’re not irritating, or exhausting.” He turns around in the embrace to look Bokuto in the eyes. Suddenly the air feels thicker, dense with unsaid words. He sees Bokuto’s eyes dart to his slightly exposed collarbones, and then back to his lips. Kenma could swear he can hear his thoughts out loud, the desire evident on Bokuto’s face, but he would hate to rush this. He wants to tell Bokuto how he truly feels, how the mere thought of not being together upsets him, he wants to be _sure_ they are on the same page, but Bokuto’s lips are there, so inviting and so, so close...and suddenly he’s not sure he can stop himself. 

“T-thank you.” He feels Bokuto’s breath hitch. “Um- you should check out the braids, I think they turned out really pretty!” 

Kenma moves to stand on his knees, placing his hands on Bokuto’s thighs. “I think you are really pretty, too,” he whispers, mere millimetres away from his lips. He moves one of his hands up, running it across Bokuto’s chest. He hears him inhale a sharp breath, stirring under his touch. “K-kenma, what are we-”

“I want to kiss you. Can I?” Bokuto gapes at him for a moment, but eagerly nods and brings Kenma closer to himself, bringing him down to sit on his lap.

When their lips collide, Kenma finally feels like he can breathe again. It’s a desperate kiss, demanding, impatient. He runs his hands through Bokuto’s hair and feels like a fool. He will never have enough of it, the taste of his lips, his hands sneaking hot touches under the sweater...he will never have enough of him. He should have never gotten himself into this.

Kenma presses him into the couch, leaving a hot trail of kisses along his jaw and down to his neck. He bites him there and Bokuto whimpers, pulling Kenma even closer to himself. It’s intoxicating, stopping now feels impossible. He bites him again, and again, and the noises he makes are delicious. Kenma looks at him with half-lidded eyes: flushed, panting and disheveled, he looks more beautiful than ever. 

Suddenly, Bokuto stills. His eyes are screwed shut, his palms pressing hardly on them. He’s breathing unsteadily, and as Kenma is about to ask him if he’s okay, he puts his hands forward, pushing on Kenma’s chest, “I-, I need to leave.” 

Kenma doesn’t waste time and immediately moves to the side, his heart sinking in his chest. “Is something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t want?” Bokuto is still avoiding his gaze, fidgeting as he stands up from the couch. 

“No- it’s fine, I’m fine,” he says, but his eyes betray him, rapidly filling with tears. 

Kenma shivers, suddenly very cold. Guilt chokes him, gripping him by the throat, making him unable to stand up. The bathroom door closes with a click and Bokuto is gone.

  
  
  
~  
  
  


Kenma feels like he’s been standing outside that door for hours. It’s probably been ten minutes, or thirty, he’s not sure anymore. He can hear sniffling coming from inside, but doesn’t dare to knock, in fear of making it worse somehow. He should have known he would fuck this up in one way or another, Bokuto doesn’t deserve any more suffering. Why- why was he so selfish?

Kenma had just resigned himself to sit on the floor, when suddenly the door clicks open, and Bokuto emerges with red-rimmed eyes and a dejected look on his face. Kenma feels like he’s going to be sick. “I- sorry I left like that,” Bokuto says, sighing.

“What are you sorry for?! I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” Kenma rushes into his apology. He needs to explain, needs to fix this before Bokuto disappears again.

But Bokuto interjects, “it’s just- I don’t think I can do this with you, Kenma. I tried- I tried to think about it but it’d be too much.”

“...do what?” Kenma replies, filled with dread. This is probably it, he guesses. Bokuto wants nothing to do with him anymore. He pushed his luck enough during the past few months.

Bokuto takes a deep breath, looking more resigned than Kenma had ever seen him. “I put myself in this situation, so it’s not your fault b-but...I fell in love with you, Kenma, and we can’t fool around like this when kissing you hurts me so much already.” Tears start to stream down on Bokuto’s cheeks again, and Kenma’s brain short-circuits.

“You- you love me?”

“I’m sorry- I, I didn’t know how to stop it.” His lips tremble as he wipes some tears away with the back of his hands, “I can’t do casual things anymore, it just hurts too much, and it hurts even more because it’s you.”

Kenma’s heart can’t take this anymore. He reaches to grab one of Bokuto’s hands, and places it on his chest. Bokuto’s breath catches in his throat, but Kenma speaks before he can say anything. “For months, I’ve wanted to kiss you like that. I dreamed of it so many times, and I always held back, because I didn’t want to push you away.” He brings Bokuto’s hand to his lips, kissing him there, where it’s still wet with tears. Bokuto is gaping at him, fear and uncertainty clearly visible in his eyes. 

He can’t wait anymore. Kenma gently drags him towards the couch and, once they are sitting and facing each other, breathes out: “I love you.” 

Bokuto startles at the words, as if he was expecting anything but to be requited. Kenma reprises, determined to get his feelings off his chest, “I keep falling for you and I can’t seem to stop.” Bokuto’s eyes widen even more. “Tonight...I kept thinking that you were flirting with me and I- I should have asked, but- I thought you wanted to kiss me too, and when you did-” he pauses to breathe. Kenma is not used to talking about his feelings, not like this, and his heart is threatening to jump out of his chest.

“I did! I wanted to! For so, so long,” Bokuto says, “when you kissed me in front of Akihiko today, all I could think about was how _real_ it felt. I thought- I felt something. I could see it in your eyes.”

Kenma nods, still not daring to close the gap between them. 

“And then I thought it’d be good to bring you here, try to be more upfront and see if you really felt the same.” Bokuto can’t stop fidgeting, but Kenma gently holds his hands, encouraging him to continue. “So I did, but then you were so eager and- my brain suddenly went blank. I thought it’d be like the other times, we’d have sex and then you’d leave and- I freaked out.” He almost chokes on his words and Kenma can’t take this anymore. 

He launches himself onto Bokuto, hugging him as tight as he can. “Never- I would _never._ I love you,” Kenma hears Bokuto sob into the crook of his neck and he squeezes him even harder. 

  
  


They stay like that for a couple of minutes, holding each other, until Bokuto is ready to speak again.

“I know _now,_ but- I think my brain just shut down for a second and I kind of forgot that you’re _you._ ” Bokuto finally raises his head and presses a gentle kiss on Kenma’s cheek, in such a tender way that Kenma feels his face in flames, possibly more than when they were making out.

He tries to regain some composure, and pulls slightly away to look Bokuto in the eyes. “I love you. So, so much. And I need you to remember that.” 

Bokuto beams at him, doubt finally replaced by confidence. “I love you too. Wanna see just how much?”

His golden eyes sparkle with feelings that now seem crystal clear to Kenma, and just like that, their lips crash and the fire between them rekindles, ready to consume them. Bokuto brings a hand behind Kenma’s neck as they kiss, pushing him to lay on the couch. Kenma tugs at him, possessively, and hooks him close by wrapping Bokuto’s hips with his left leg. In the brief moments between each kiss, they look at each other as if they had never seen anything more precious. They’re burning with desire, more than they allowed themselves to feel earlier in the evening. 

Bokuto’s lips are heavenly, they brush every inch of Kenma’s neck, dipping underneath the collar of the sweater, making Kenma sigh in pleasure. The soft fabric that he had loved to wear just a few hours ago suddenly feels like a hindrance, and as if Bokuto had read the displeasure on his face, he slips his hands underneath the hem to take it off.

Kenma lets him, savouring the feeling of Bokuto’s hot touches on his skin. He promptly straightens up, pushing against Bokuto, and flips the situation by pressing _him_ into the couch. Bokuto is panting, eyes filled with lust, and love, and Kenma wants to eat him whole.

The realization of what they’re about to do is overwhelming. He manages to catch his breath, hands still tangled in Bokuto’s now soft hair; he needs to ask, “I need to know what you want.” 

Bokuto stills, comprehension dawning on his face. “You,” he says, hands still running over Kenma’s body. He drags his nails over his bare back, leaving light red lines and making him moan loudly. “I want _you_ , Kenma.”

They can’t seem to stop touching, breathing on each other's skin. Everything is so hot they feel almost feverish. “Bedroom?” Kenma asks, carefully watching for any sign of uncertainty on Bokuto’s face, but he only lights up more, “yes- yes please.” 

Kenma wraps his legs around Bokuto’s waist and lets himself be carried, enjoying the sight of his muscles tensing. Instead of patiently waiting, Kenma keeps licking and sucking on his neck as they stumble towards the bedroom, causing deep throaty moans to escape from Bokuto’s mouth. 

They don’t bother to turn on the lights, but the door to the living room is left open by Kenma’s request, letting some of the light filter in. Kenma needs to see him, as he lovingly takes him apart. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers into Bokuto’s ear as he undresses him. 

Once he’s lying there, naked between the sheets, Kenma almost tears up at the pure, utter trust he sees in his eyes. Somehow, after all the heartache he’s been through, Bokuto deems him worthy enough of such a sight, and Kenma can’t help but feel special. 

Bokuto entrusts him with control, and Kenma takes care of him, as promised.

He spoils him, with love pouring out of every kiss, every bite. He doesn’t leave a single inch of skin neglected, enjoying the flush that spreads on Bokuto’s chest and on his face. He devours him slowly, with patience, relishing in the whimpers of pleasure that he breathes out. 

He drowns Bokuto’s moans with kisses as he pushes into him, thrilled by the way his body shivers with every thrust. 

The air is filled with hot breaths and whispered requests, Bokuto’s hands are tangled in the remains of Kenma’s blonde braids, when he asks him to call him _Koutarou._

And Kenma does. He comes with _Koutarou_ on his lips, shortly after him.

He collapses on the bed, admiring the peaceful, blissed out expression on Koutarou’s face, the way the white-gray strands fall softly over his half-lidded eyes. The last thing he remembers is _I love you_ whispered in his ear.

  
  
~  
  
  


Kenma is woken up by a warm ray of sun hitting him across the face. On a different occasion, he would have felt violent for the rest of the day, but the sensation of Bokuto’s warm body still pressed against his back is close to pure bliss. He doesn’t have the strength to feel upset.

He is still shaken at the thought of what happened the previous night. Not only did he miraculously manage to confess, but more importantly, somehow Bokuto returns his feelings. They can be together, _really_ together. 

Kenma tries to stretch, moving sneakily not to awake him, but when he turns around far enough, he notices a golden pair of eyes staring intently at him.

“Good morning!” Bokuto’s voice is not even hoarse. He looks completely awake and ready to sprint out of bed, and Kenma wonders where he finds all this energy when he himself can barely keep his eyes open.

“I wanted to get up to make breakfast, but you looked too cute and you were sleeping on my arm, so…” He cocks his head to one side pointedly, takes one of Kenma’s hands and kisses it. “I’ll go now! Just wait for me here, I’ll be back soon.” 

As he goes to stand up, revealing his still very much naked back, Kenma doesn’t let go of his hand. “In a bit. Come back here and hug me,” he pouts, “I can’t believe we wasted so much time not doing this, I’m not gonna let you go so easily.”

“But I’m hungry Kenma,” Bokuto says, dragging the last syllable. There’s no real displeasure in his voice; he’s playful, as he lifts the covers and pokes at Kenma’s sides.

“If you’re so hungry you can eat me, _Koutarou.”_ Kenma is delighted to see the flush spreading on Bokuto’s cheeks.

_“_ Oh my god, don’t say it with that voice!”

“What voice? You liked it yesterday,” he feigns innocence as he ropes Bokuto back into bed. 

“Mhn, true. Never stop saying that.” Bokuto smiles at him and lies down again, pressing a light kiss against his lips. He gently runs his fingers all over Kenma’s naked body, tracing the outline of the tattoo on his forearm, the lines of the muscles on his abdomen. Kenma almost purrs, like a cat, as Bokuto brushes the bruises on his neck. 

“You made a mess of my braids, after all that hard work…” he murmurs into the crevice of Bokuto’s neck.

“Yeah,” Bokuto moves to lick at the seam of his lips, “wanna make it worse?”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I love these two from the bottom of my heart, and it's the first time I publish anything for this pairing, so I hope I made them justice! 
> 
> Leave a comment if you feel like it or talk to me on twitter, if you want :)  
> twt: [Ju](https://twitter.com/Akaashi699)


End file.
